


Ineffable Oneshots

by The_Ravenclaw_Pirate



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic, Drunk Dancing, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Fluff, Gap Filler, Love Confessions, M/M, Sleepovers, complaining about work, impersonating each other, planning, proposal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-05-31 07:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ravenclaw_Pirate/pseuds/The_Ravenclaw_Pirate
Summary: So these are a collection of oneshots surrounding the Ineffable Husbands from Good Omens. Shenanigans ensue, I guess.





	1. Ineffable Fiancés

**Author's Note:**

> They are the Ineffable Partners at the beginning and then one of them proposes, but I will not tell you who because spoilers. They live in Crowley's flat which now has the Aziraphale Touch™ and includes a headcanon I don't think I've seen anywhere yet. Enjoy!

It was a particularly cold evening in Soho, that October 27th. The angels were curled up together under a grey, fluffy blanket on their sofa, both perfectly comfortable and warm despite the harsh weather outside for they were in each other’s company and wanted for nothing more. Aziraphale, clothed in some pale blue and cream striped pyjamas, was reading a relatively new book of his. It was a first edition, as he preferred all his books to be, but it was relatively new as it had been released a mere 10 years earlier. He had to admit, for a recent book it was very, very good; it was so beautifully written. Crowley, adorning all black pyjamas, was laid next to him, comfortably resting his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. The demon looked up at Aziraphale’s relaxed face, wearing an expression that he only wore when reading a new favourite.

“What are you reading, angel?”

“Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe.”

“Is it good?”

“Yes, my dear.” Aziraphale replied, glancing at his partner for a second before returning to his reading, “Why? Do you want me to read it to you when I’ve finished?”

“If it’s not much trouble, angel.”

“Of course not, dear, I like reading to you. Though, why you can’t read books yourself I have no idea.”

“I told you when we crashed the Bentley into that cyclist, remember?”

“I recall  _ you _ crashed into that poor woman, I was just in the car with you.”

“Fine, when  _ I _ knocked that cyclist off her bike. I told you, I don’t read books.”

“Then why not miracle yourself an audiobook?”

“It’s stupid, I don’t want to tell you.” Crowley replied, looking away suddenly.

“Oh go on, my dear, I promise I won’t laugh.” Aziraphale replied, placing his bookmark carefully where he had just finished, closing the book and placing it on the sofa’s armrest.

“... No.”

“Please, Crowley. You have my full attention.” Aziraphale pleaded, turning to look at the demon patiently.

“Fine, anything for you, angel. I  _ prefer _ it when you read them to me. I know you like reading them to me too, but I just enjoy them so much more when you read them to me because I can tell you love them. There, it’s dumb, I know but that’s my reason, I’ll just go check on the plants now.” Crowley replied quickly, practically throwing his part of the blanket onto Aziraphale and he stood up, walking swiftly towards the plant area.

“But dear, that’s, um, that’s so lovely Crowley.” Aziraphale called after him, stalling between words as he felt himself blush slightly.

Crowley stopped in his tracks. “Lovely?”

“Y-yes. It’s not stupid at all, it’s rather charming, in fact. Please sit back down, I’m rather cold.” Aziraphale replied, his blush intensifying, faux shivering to emphasise his point.

The demon wordlessly sat back down, re-assuming his position laid next to Aziraphale as his angel gently placed the blanket back over him. The angel continued reading as the demon lay there comfortably, thinking about how he never, ever wanted to leave this spot.

_ The Next Day _

It was half 10 in the morning. Aziraphale had decided to open the shop that day, so Crowley had plenty of time to get there. As soon as his partner has left the flat, he tended to his plants, being a little nicer to them today. Then he hopped into the Bentley and sped off towards his destination.

He had been stood around the jewellery shop for over an hour, his browsing unfruitful in his bid to find the perfect ring for Aziraphale. He had looked at antiques, anniversary bands, conventional engagement rings, claddagh rings and even cocktail rings, but none of them were  _ the _ ring, they were simply  _ a _ ring. The demon grew more and more frustrated, his desire to commit arson climbing higher and higher the longer he stayed in the shop. He had talked to every salesperson and not one had shown him the appropriate ring, though one lovely chap did call him a certain slur under his breath which may have resulted in his car accidentally setting on fire. Woops. Crowley managed to restrain himself enough to give them a polite ‘thanks but that’s not what I’m looking for’ before finally leaving to search for another jewellery shop, cursing as he hoped this wouldn’t take all day, he desperately needed to figure how he was going to ask.

About 3 jewellery shops, 4 hours and 2 outbursts at unsuspecting employees later, he had found it. The perfect ring. He had stumbled across the small shop as he was driving the Bentley, it must have been new. Crowley parked immediately, annoying many drivers, and darted into the shop.

“Sorry we’re closing” the red haired woman behind the counter said as he entered the shop, the small bell above the door signalling his arrival.

“Don’t care. I need the ring.”

“Sorry, sir, I’m afraid we’re closing.”

“No, I am buying that ring. The one in the window.”

“Which one in the window?”   
“The thin golden one, with the silver wings with diamonds in the middle of the wings.”

“That one is lovely.”

“I know, please can I buy it?” Crowley pleaded, discreetly miracling himself a wallet full of cash.

“Unfortunately not, we’re closing sir. Come back tomorrow, we open at-”

“No, you don’t know what kind of day I have had. I have been staring at stupid rings all day and not a single one has been good enough for him. That ring is perfect, it is  _ the _ ring. I have to buy it now.”

“I’m sorry sir, but we’re closing.”

“I know, but I need it. I will pay anything.”

“I’m sure you will but we’re closing now.” 

“I will get it myself. You’re behind the till, I can still purchase it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes, I concede. Go get the ring.” the woman replied, defeated.

Crowley quickly retrieved the ring and placed it on the counter, “How much?”

“£50 please. Do you require a box?”

“Yes.”

“What colour? We have white, black, red, grey-”

“I’ll take the grey.” the demon replied hastily, counting out 2 twenties and a ten pound note, also retrieving a 2 pound coin for her trouble.

He handed the money to her with an elaborate expression of gratitude and walked out of the shop with a slightly less sullen saunter. He sat down in his Bentley and started grinning uncontrollably at his quest finally coming to an end as he opened the box to look at  _ the _ ring. It was perfect. Then his face fell upon the realisation he didn’t know how to ask his angel. He had seen many, many, many marriage proposals, but he never imagined that he himself, the demon Crowley, would actually be proposing, nevermind to Aziraphale. He quickly set off.

As Crowley drove, he mulled over his dilemma, thinking and rethinking the whole problem. He knew it had to be at The Ritz, their special place. But how? What conversation could possibly lead to “hey angel, want to marry me?”. Then again, could he just ask him outright? Not even at The Ritz, maybe just later on, when they’re curled up on the sofa together again.  _ No, that’s not enough _ , Crowley thought, as he entered the flat.

_ Later… _

“I’m home, my dear!” Aziraphale shouted as he entered the flat, softly closing the door behind him. The angel took a few steps into the dining room and looked around inquisitively. There were flowers. A singular floral arrangement sat in the middle of their oak dining table, made up of black and white tulips as well as a few white roses with a slight blue hue. He called out to his partner, but got no reply. He stepped a little closer to the flowers and noticed a little note peeking out from behind a perfect black tulip. It read:

_ To my darling angel, Aziraphale, _

_ Come down to The Ritz as soon as you’ve read this note. I’m waiting at our usual table, just say you’re here with a Mr. Anthony J Crowley. I have a surprise for you. _

_ Love from, Crowley xx. _

Aziraphale immediately snapped into action, quickly and expertly hailing a taxi to The Ritz.

The demon, Crowley, sat hunched over the table. He had been practising asking Aziraphale for the past 2 hours, so now he sat, waiting, going over the whole thing in his head over and over again. Trying to relax, the demon stretched a bit, trying to change is anxious perch into a more casual lounge. It only half worked, but this was a respectable place with etiquette and not his own house. Then he heard his voice. His soft, magical voice, like a lullaby to his ears, normally. But at this precise moment, his anxious state spiked as his prepared speech dissipated and he was there, in the middle of The Ritz, with absolutely nothing prepared. Aziraphale sat down across from him and smiled instantaneously.

“Crowley, my dear! What surprise have you got for me?” the angel asked.

“We can go into it later, angel. Tell me about your day.” Crowley replied after a brief panicked pause.

The demon felt his anxiety melt away as his partner talked about his day, telling him about one particularly stubborn customer, before moving on to talk about how he finished his book and how truly incredible it was so he couldn’t wait to read it to Crowley, until they were interrupted by the waiter to order, which they did swiftly before turning back to each other.

“So, Crowley my dear, how was your day?”

“A bit hectic, actually. I went through 5 shops searching for something, which I found and purchased in the fifth, though it was annoying to get because the woman at the till was adamant that they were closing.” Crowley replied, taking a sip of his wine.

“Oh dear, but at least you got it. What was it, out of curiosity?”

“Something for you, Aziraphale. I’ll give it to you before desert.” the demon replied, earning a small smile from the angel.

After they had finished their dinner, Crowley turned to Aziraphale.

“Angel?”

“Yes my dear?”

“Why did it take us so long?”

“To do what?”

“You know, get together?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I recall two powerful forces called Heaven and Hell keeping us apart.”

“I know, I know, but even after we broke from them, it took us like 6 months or something.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I remember the night. We were both incredibly drunk, you told me you loved me, I revealed I reciprocated, we kissed.” Aziraphale reminisced fondly, a smile taking over his face.

“Yeah, it was great. Then you moved in after another 6 months. It must have been about a year and a half ago.”

“Oh, yes. Why do you bring this up, Crowley?”

Aziraphale’s question hung in the air for what felt like a century to Crowley. It was now or a long way down the line, he never knew when the perfect moment may arise again.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something important, angel.” Crowley replied, discreetly slipping the box out of his pocket.

“What is it, my dear?” Aziraphale asked - his soft voice almost a whisper - as Crowley knelt down on one knee in front of him.

“Aziraphale, my darling angel. Will you please make me the happiest demon in the entire universe? Will you marry?” Crowley questioned, cracking the box open in front of him, offering it to his angel in an intense moment of deep vulnerability and connection.

“Of course, Crowley!” Aziraphale squealed excitedly, a grin plastered across his face and tears coming to his eyes.

The pair sprang up and embraced each other before enveloping one another in a passionate kiss as tears streamed down their faces. Crolwey slipped the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger quickly and they kissed again before sitting back down. 

“To our engagement?” Crowley asked, raising a glass of champagne to toast.

“To our engagement!” Aziraphale replied, accepting the toast and clinking his glass against Crowley’s.


	2. Ineffable Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probs every good omens fic writer's rite of passage - what happened between the not-pocalypse and bodyswap. i like the sleepover thing so i wrote it. this was fun to write so i hope you enjoy it.

The first thing Aziraphale noticed upon entering Crowley’s flat was the puddle of demon on the floor.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake! Who was that?” the angel asked his friend, looking at the puddle almost as though he was afraid to touch it.

“Ligur. Came with Hastur to try and take me back to Hell for Armageddon, but I knew they were coming and used that holy water you gave me.” Crowley replied nonchalantly, stepping over the puddle and fetching another bucket to mop up the remnants of Ligur.

Aziraphale grimaced when he looked at the mass on the floor again before stepping over it too and looking around the rest of the flat. He had _been_ to Crowley’s flat on one or two occasions, though they were always brief visits as his shop was closer to everywhere else they saw each other. The angel peered into the living room, which was nicely furnished in a catalogue sort of way with a sleek, black sofa with perfectly rectangular cushions, an elegant white coffee table and a nice, grey rug. It was an aesthetically pleasing room though it didn’t quite look like someone _lived_ here, which he guessed it wasn’t. _Still could do with a comfier sofa and a bookshelf, though,_ the angel thought to himself as he studied to room some more.

“Alright there angel?” Crowley asked the angel, deliberately spooking him.

“Yes, yes. Of course. Shall we sit down, my dear? To discuss the prophecy?” Aziraphale suggested, a little startled at Crowley’s sudden appearance.

The demon simply nodded and walked past Aziraphale, promptly slouching onto the sofa comfortably, stretching out much like a snake or someone who didn’t really know how to sit properly. The angle smiled fondly for a millisecond before he caught himself and quickly joined the demon, but sat more upright. The pair sat in silence for a minute or two.

“So, what was the prophecy again, angel?”

“Right,” the angel proclaimed before clearing his throat and holding the paper out in front of him, “When all is faced and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enouff you will be playing with fyre.”

“Right, right. Cryptic, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. So what does it mean?”

“I don’t know, my dear. Can’t think of anything.”

“Okay. Right, well I think I better put the kettle on and make us a good cup of tea. We may be here a while. Shame, really, I wanted to sleep tonight.”

“But you don’t _need_ -”

“I know, I know but it’s just so lovely.” the demon said.

And with that, he got up and poured them some tea, expertly brewing 2 very different cups as he had done hundreds of times before.

_A few hours and 7 cups of tea later_

“No, no, no we’re thinking too abstract, angel!” Crowley cried, exasperated that they’d spent so long on this and gotten nowhere.

“Now, my dear, there is no need for that tone! Are you suggesting we think more literally?”

“Yes, maybe that’s it. Hmmm,” the demon murmured pensively, absentmindedly chewing the end of his sunglasses’ frames and taking another swig of tea.

“Perhaps, my dear, if you don’t mind my suggesting, the ‘fyre’ Agnes is referring to is Hell Fire?”

“What makes you think that?”  
“I’m afraid I’m not too sure, my dear. Maybe she’s predicting that we may be punished by Heaven and Hell for our actions in preventing Armageddon? And choosing our faces wisely may refer to-”

“Are you suggesting we swap bodies tomorrow or something?”

“Yes. Worth a shot, I think, if Hell Fire is involved as it can destroy me.”

“But how will that work? We’ll have to act like each other too, you know. Or they’ll catch on.”

“My dear I have known you for over 6000 years. I know how you act, and I’m sure you know how I act too. Maybe we should practise, test it out.”

Crowley hesitated for a second before letting out a begrudging ‘Alright’, and extending his hand towards Aziraphale. The angel slowly took the other’s hand and the pair closed their eyes as a glow took over their bodies and they slowly morphed into each other. As soon as the glow had disappeared, the pair opened their eyes, Aziraphale blinking a couple of times to grow accustomed to the dark tint that the sunglasses cast onto the world. Crowley also blinked a couple of times at the brightness of the lights, not used to the light after so many years of donning sunglasses. The angel and demon looked at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness.

“Oh, my dear, what are we doing?”

“Something ludicrous, angel.” Crowley laughed.

“Indeed. Now, my dear, we simply must return to the task at hand for we may not have long to perfect our acts.”

“Of course, angel. It’s all well and good looking and sounding like each other, but we have to adopt one another’s mannerisms to successfully pull this off,” Crowley said, becoming serious, “So, angel, we have to do something about that posture.”

“Oh, we’re starting with me, are we?”

“Evidently. Now go on, angel, humour me. Give me your best slouch-sit.” Crowley ordered, crossing his arms.

Aziraphale grimaced slightly, he had always despised Crowley’s posture, but he did as instructed. He scooted backwards slightly before stretching out and sliding down the sofa awkwardly, his lower back now on the seat with his upper back on the back at an obtuse angle. Slowly and naturally he felt his legs part slightly and he even brought one up onto the sofa cushion in a sort of half cross legged perch as the other leg hung comfortably over the edge. His head slowly flopped slightly onto the sofa back as he placed his left arm on the cushion behind him at an odd-looking yet perfectly comfortable angle.

“How’s this?” Aziraphale questioned tentatively.

“Uhhh, great. Now about speech. I know, angel, that you are a very clever supernatural deity, but please nothing too fancy.” Crowley replied before swiftly moving on.

“My dear do explain yourself.”

“No tickety-boo’s, no bebop’s. Hey let’s try it out. I’ll pretend to be Lord Beezlebub and you pretend to be me.” Crowley offered.

“Excellent idea.”

“Thanks, um, I’ll go first.” he began, clearing his throat first, “The trial of the Demon Crawly-”

“It’s Crowley, actually.”

“Silence! _Nice touch_.”

“ _Thank you, my dear_. So, what appears to be the problem?”

“ _Excellent_. You cooperated with the enemy and murdered a fellow demon.”

“I, I see your concerns, but to be fair, Ligur had it coming. Other than that everything’s just peachy right?”

“No, try again. No ‘just peachy’.”

“ _Right_. Other than that everything’s fine, right?”

“No. You cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Hmm, right, I see your concerns. But I suppose you wouldn't mind if I just exit this area in an orderly fashion and-”

“No, no choose something less, well, you, angel. You have to think like a demon.”

“Right, well if that’s all, I’ll just saunter vaguely up to Earth to bring more people closer to Satan-”

“No! You shall become extinct!”

“Another time then, eh. I’ll just be off, call me when you want to do the whole… extinction thing, we’ll make a day out of it.” Aziraphale remarked lazily, expertly channelling the essence of Crowley, including his voice.

“Right, excellent rendition of myself, angel, positively demonic so I think we’ll call this a wrap on that.”

“Why thank you, my dear. I really did try, you know. I guess it’s your turn to impersonate me now.” Aziraphale replied, sitting upright.

“Oh yes, of course. Any quick pointers?”

“Well, vocabulary is everything, my dear. And posture, I am quite renowned up there for my extraordinary posture.”

“Really?”

“Well, no, I just wanted to be. But that’s not the point. Sit up straight.” Aziraphale ordered, a stern look taking over his face.

Crowley began formulating an argument in his head, but stopped at the first word upon realising this whole operation’s necessity. He slowly removed his arms from the back of his sofa, simultaneously sitting upright. His leg was moved from on the cushion he was perched upon and his foot came to rest on the floor before the final step had to be carried out. With a look of pure reluctance and discomfort on his face, the demon brought his knees together to bring his slouch to a perfect perch.

“This alright?” Crowley ventured, trying not to show his discomfort.

“Positively exquisite, my dear.”

“Thanks. You really sit like this all the time? Even when you’re relaxing?”

“Of course I do.”

“How?! It’s so uncomfortable!”

“Is it? I’ve never found discomfort sitting like this,” Aziraphale replied, “But this is a tangent to the real matter at hand. We simply must practise conversation or things certainly won’t be tickety boo, now will they? I’ll be Gabriel, you be me.”

“Alright, alright. Should I go-”

“Aziraphale! Glad you could join us!”

“Positively ecstatic to be here.”

“Right, right, my dear. In the most polite way possible, you must tone down the enthusiasm.”

“Not a problem, positively tickety boo.”

“ _Good_. So, about your punishment, I think you're going to like this.”

“Oh. How considerate of you, Gabriel.”

“I know. Now, Aziraphale. Principality. Angel of the East Gate.”

“That’s me!”

“I, the Archangel Gabriel, have always found you to be quite an odd angel, to say the least.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d prefer unique.”

“Noted. But now, at the revelation that you are a traitor, I sentence you to extinction by Hell Fire.”

“A little much, isn’t it? Aren’t we all about forgiveness and-”

“Right, shut your **STUPID MOUTH** , and die already.” Aziraphale nearly shouted and punctuated with a smile, his Gabriel impression was truly on parr with the real deal.

“Can we call it a day on that, please? I just really want to punch Gabriel, he sounds like quite the arse.”

“He really is, but please don’t punch him. That’ll give it away.”

“Of course not, angel. Want to swap back?” Crowley asked, grinning as he extended his hand towards his friend.

The angel took the hand and the pair closed their eyes, morphing back into themselves once again. They sat in silence for a minute as Crowley laid back into a slouch, letting out a sigh of satisfaction and comfort.

“Fancy a drink?” Crowley questioned, getting a grin and a nod in response.

_An hour and 3 bottles of wine later_

“It’s not that Gabriel’s a bad angel, per se, he’s just always so damn _smug_.” Aziraphale managed to remark after about 30 seconds of thinking about the points he’d already made in his 5 minute rant.

“I hear, I hear you angel. I really don’t like my superiors either.” Crowley nodded along, pausing every now and again.

“Oh do tell my dear.”

“It’s just all the rest of the demons, like Hastur, spend years and years and years and years and years whittling away at one soul to claim for Hell and they call it ‘craftsmanship’? It’s so bloody inefficient and not one of them thinks big picture like I do with my bringing down phone lines and the masterpiece of the M25.” Crowley spat out before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny my dear?” Aziraphale asked, hiccuping about halfway through.

“We don’t have to listen to them anymore, angel! We’re free! You don’t have to put up with Gabriel or those other wank-wings, I don’t have to hear another word about bloody craftsmanship!” Crowley shouted ecstatically, getting up and dancing around the living room.

“Yes! That’s wo-wo-wonderful!”

“Come on, angel! Dance with me!” the demon shouted, grinning wildly as he extended his hand towards the angel.

“Oh no I can’t! For I, Aziraphale, can only dance the gavotte, which you probably do not know!” the angel shouted dramatically before breaking down into a fit of laughter.

“Good point, actually. But maybe I will learn it. Just for you.” Crowley replied, slumping down onto the sofa beside Aziraphale and booping his nose at the end of the last sentence.

Aziraphale blushed a deep crimson and looked away, shaking his head at the thought. Crowley only laughed at him.

“Oh that’s one of the many, many, many things I love about you, angel. You’re so easily flustered, it’s adorable.” Crowley laughed, his words slurring together slightly less than they had been before, “Honestly, angel, I like you so much. You get so excited over what I think are the most stupid things and say so many strange things and you’re so clever yet so, so stupid. Sometimes I think I’m too obvious, but then I remember how oblivious you are and am relieved that you’ll never know. I don’t know, angel, I often find myself wishing I could tell you how I feel about you, but I myself don’t really know the true extent of them. Sometimes I even think I’m in love with you and I wish we could run away together and live somewhere unbothered by Heaven and Hell together, just us two.”

Aziraphale blushed even deeper and smiled.

“My dear, you old fool,” the angel began, returning Crowley a boop upon the nose, “You just _told_ me how you feel.”

“Oh. Sorry, angel. I was just, um, joking. We really ought to sober up we don’t have long-”

“Crowley, my dear, I love you too.”

“Oh.”

The angel budged a little closer to the demon until he was practically sat in his lap. Cautiously, he reached out his arms and cupped Crowley’s face in his hands, pulling him closer. He pressed their foreheads together for a minute, with no sound other than each other’s breathing. And then Aziraphale kissed him. And Crowley kissed back. They smiled at each other before they kissed again. And again. And again. And again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
